


i still remember how i made you feel

by akamine_chan, Jiksa



Category: Frank Iero and the Patience, Gerard Way and the Hormones, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Audio Format: M4B, Audio Format: MP3, Band Break Up, F/M, M/M, Podfic, Podfic & Podficced Works, Podfic Length: 10-20 Minutes, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-07 04:08:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12832971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akamine_chan/pseuds/akamine_chan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jiksa/pseuds/Jiksa
Summary: Frank has been working on this song forfuckingever, and he just wants it done.





	i still remember how i made you feel

**Author's Note:**

> I asked for prompts from friends for possible pod_together party favor collaborations, and this was the prompt that Jiksa gave me:
> 
> _Gee shows up at Frank's studio or hotel room in Venice Beach while he's recording. (Possibly inspired by this tweet (perhaps he helps him finish the song Frnk started writing when they/the band broke up?))_
> 
> Tweet referenced at the end of the story.

cover art by Jiksa

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## Streaming Audio

## Downloads

  * With music: [mp3](http://akamine.100webspace.net/podfic/jx/isrhim_wmusic.mp3) | [m4b](http://akamine.100webspace.net/podfic/jx/isrhim_wmusic.m4b)  
**Size:** 8.8 MB | **Duration:** 00:10:48 
  * Without music: [mp3](http://akamine.100webspace.net/podfic/jx/isrhim_nomusic.mp3) | [m4b](http://akamine.100webspace.net/podfic/jx/isrhim_nomusic.m4b)  
**Size:** 8.6 MB | **Duration:** 00:10:30 
  * Audiofic Archive: coming soon 

  
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The minute Frank walked into the hotel room, there was an immediate sense of something _wrong_. He dropped his bag and groped for the light switch on the wall, wincing at the brightness. His eyes darted around, but there was nothing out of place.

The curtains by the sliding glass door ruffled a little in the breeze coming off the ocean, and _that_ wasn't right, Frank was a freak about making sure that everything was locked tight when he left. He peered out into the darkness and there was _someone on the fucking balcony, holy shit_ —

His phone was in his hand and he was hitting the 9 in 9-1-1 when the clouds shifted; silver moonlight gilding brown hair and highlighting the planes of a face he would never forget, no matter how much he wanted to. "Fucker," he muttered, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

The sound of the door sliding back on the metal track was loud, even with the white noise of the beach. "How did you get in?" he demanded. He zipped up his hoodie to ward off the late-night chill.

"Hey, Frankie," Gerard said, and his smile was soft and sweet.

"I almost called the cops on your ass. How did you get in?" he repeated, ignoring the way his body tried to betray him again, _always_ , by smiling back. 

"Eddie called me." Gerard twitched a shoulder. "Said you were stuck."

"Rat bastard," he said under his breath.

"He's worried about you," Gerard said, and Frank _knew_ that. He'd seen the looks Eddie had slanted at Evan, when he thought Frank wasn't looking, as Frank fought with the fucking song.

"You were always his favorite."

"Not lately." Gerard looked away, and what the hell was Frank supposed to say to _that_?

"Yeah, well." He cleared his throat to get rid of the _what did you fucking expect?_ lodged there. "It's fine, I can handle this. Sorry you came out here for nothing, but—" He couldn't sell it, but that didn't stop him from trying.

"Frank." Gerard voice was gentle, like Frank was an animal that needed taming. "Sit down and play for me. Show me what you've got so far."

He sighed in relief, because now he had an excuse. "Can't. All my gear's at the studio."

Gerard shifted in the deck chair, and Frank saw the shadowed silhouette of a guitar behind him. "It's nothing fancy," Gerard said, "but it'll do."

Frank thought about telling him to fuck off, but as stubborn as Frank could be, Gerard was so much _worse_. He would just stare at Frank with his stupid earnest face and list all the reasons why it was important for Frank to share this with him—no. Frank knew he wouldn't be able to withstand that.

It must have shown on his face. "Sit." Gerard nudged at the other chair with a sneakered foot.

He did as he was told, dropping down with ill-concealed annoyance. There was a metallic _snick_ and Gerard was easing the guitar into his lap. Without conscious thought, he shifted to settle the curves more securely against his body, hand wrapping around the neck, fingers stroking the strings. He automatically started to tune it, and—

"Drop C-sharp," Gerard said blandly. "Ray's been teaching me." 

Frank plucked each string in turn, listening to the pure notes that rang out. He muted the sound with the flat of his hand and hunched over the guitar. "What do you want, Gerard?"

Gerard sighed loudly, running a hand over his face, and Frank noticed how tired he looked. Gerard was just as bad as Frank at doing nothing; he had a dozen different projects going on and they took their toll on Gerard, even if they were things that Gerard _really_ wanted to do.

"It wasn't because I stopped loving you, you know that, right? The band, it was over and done, we all knew that. But us, you and me—" He inhaled deeply. "It was never because I stopped loving you."

The darkness stripped away nuance and depth, leaving behind nothing but raw honesty on Gerard's face. Frank was incapable of being no less truthful. "I knew, up here," he said, tapping his temple. "But here," he touched his chest, "not so much. It hurt."

"I know, and I'm sorry for that, Frankie. I never meant to hurt you." In the past, Gerard would have fidgeted, twisted his wedding ring around his finger, maybe picked at the cuffs of his hoodie. Now, he just met Frank's eyes. "We both wanted to spend more time with our families, and had a ton of projects we wanted to do. You were never leaving Jersey; I was pretty happy in California. As hard as it was, it was time for us to move on."

"Yeah," Frank agreed, voice soft. It was true. He'd been wanting to be home for his kids; he'd missed out on so much of their lives during the last My Chem tour. He'd needed to spend more time with Jamia, reconnect with her, take care of her, and let himself be taken care of in return.

The problem had been that he _loved_ Gerard. Every time he tried to make himself bring up the discontent he felt, he'd been swamped by guilt. He couldn't do it, couldn't be the one to make Gerard unhappy, couldn't— He sat up straight. "You son of a bitch!"

Gerard crossed his legs, and even in the dimness, Frank could see that he was wearing his best, most convincingly bland innocent face.

"Fucker." He wanted to punch Gerard in the nose. _Hard._ "How long did you know?"

Gerard looked down, stared at his knee like it held all the secrets in the universe, forehead crinkled in thought.

Frank waited with barely concealed impatience, cracking his knuckles, shifting until the guitar in his lap twanged in protest. The silence grew larger, and Frank bit his tongue to keep from prodding Gerard to answer.

Sometimes Gerard needed a moment to think his words into some semblance of order.

"I thought it was the band."

Frank waited, and when Gerard didn't say anything else, Frank wanted to scream in frustration.

"Gerard—"

Then there was a rush of words. "No, Frankie, listen: I thought you were unhappy with the band, with what we were doing, the music we were making. And then I realized it was _me_ that was making you miserable. . ."

Frank reached out in protest. Gerard caught his hand, gave it a squeeze, and held tight. "It wasn't _you_ , Gerard, not really. I never stopped loving you, either."

Gerard shrugged. "It seemed like the only way to make you truly happy again was to set you free, let you live your own life. Even if you didn't realize that's what you needed."

That was typical of Gerard, to do was was necessary, and damn the consequences to himself. "You didn't have to—" He broke off when Gerard rolled his eyes. Frank didn't want to admit it, but maybe Gerard was right; Frank was notorious for never letting go, even when he should. 

"I knew, eventually, that you'd realize it was for the best and stop being mad at me," Gerard whispered, like he was telling Frank a secret. "But I didn't think it was going to take this long. You hold a grudge like a motherfucker."

Frank giggled at that, because it was true.

"I've missed you." Gerard smiled. "I like hearing you laugh again."

There was so much Frank wanted to say, but there was time for that later. He sat up straight, and his fingers moved across the frets, settling into the first chord. The guitar sang sweetly; Frank closed his eyes and freed the music that had been locked away in his heart.

-fin- 

**Author's Note:**

> Text of the tweet:  
>  _@FrankIero May 27 last night we finished a song I've been writing for 4 years. today I'm feeling every emotion at once...but above all else, I am grateful._
> 
> Aka's note: I have a lot of feels about this tweet, and about this band, and these ridiculous boys. Also, I love Jiksa's voice a lot, and she's really, really talented, and I always feel very fortunate to have her in my life, and to be able to create amazing things like this with her. <3
> 
> Title from _Tragician_ by frnkiero andthe cellabration


End file.
